


come on eddie

by dracudad



Category: IT (2017), IT - Stephen King
Genre: M/M, Reddie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-26
Updated: 2018-10-26
Packaged: 2019-08-07 23:42:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,530
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16418294
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dracudad/pseuds/dracudad
Summary: Richie didn't want to go to the end of middle school dance. But when Eddie grabbed Richie’s sleeve, looked up into his eyes, stuck out his lower lip, and said, “please, Richie,” Richie knew that he didn't really have choice.





	come on eddie

/ Tuesday /

Richie felt like the only one in the grade who wasn’t freaking out over their end of middle school dance.

So what? He thought. Who wants to spend their Friday night in a stuffy gymnasium full of hormonal teenagers drinking possibly contaminated punch and engaging in reckless acts of PDA?

Unfortunately for Richie, his boyfriend, Eddie, felt differently. Eddie was on the student counsel, and therefore required to go to the dance, and he refused to go alone. And when Richie tried to explain that he already had plans with a bag of chips and the arcade, Eddie simply rolled his eyes. It was when Eddie grabbed Richie’s sleeve, looked up into his eyes, stuck out his lower lip, and said, “please, Richie,” that Richie knew that he was going to have to join the ranks of his classmates in going to the dance. After all, Eddie was so fucking cute that he found it hard to say no to him. Especially when puppy eyes were involved.

Bill laughed as Richie recounted the tale during Tuesday night band practise in Bill’s garage. Their band was called The Losers Club and it was kind of terrible. Richie knew it had the potential to be great, but they spent most of their practises listening to Bill ranting about Stan’s eyes instead of actually, you know, practising. Bev played electric guitar, Mike played violin, Bill played piano, Ben played drums, and Richie was the lead singer. Bev and Ben also did backup vocals. Stan called himself the manager, which just meant he didn’t attend any practises or actually do anything but still got a hypothetical 20% of their hypothetical profits.

“Hey, maybe we should perform at the dance!” Ben said, and Richie snapped out of his thoughts.

“Huh?”

“Th-that’s right,” Bill said. “The f-f-flyer said that they w-were taking applic-c-cations for students to p-perform during the d-d-dance.”

Richie snorted. “Guys, we’re not good enough.”

“Oh, because the standards of a dance are so high,” Mike retorted. Then, turning to Ben, he said, “I think it’s a good idea. We’d have to work harder, but it could be fun.”

“I’m in,” Bev said brightly. “Come on, let’s do play some songs and at the end, vote on whether or not we should apply.”

“Fine,” Richie grumbled. He couldn’t help but get a little excited at the thought of singing for the entire grade, but he ignored it and set up the shitty microphone they had. Mike grabbed his violin, Ben situated himself in front of the drum set, Bill turned on his keyboard, and Bev slung her guitar over her shoulder—and the next morning, they sent Unofficial Manager Stan to the principal’s office, and he returned with the information that the rookie band known as The Losers Club would play at the dance.

/ Friday /

By the time school let out on Friday, Richie began to realise that maybe they hadn’t really thought this through.

Not the band part. They had practised every day that week, and Richie thought they sounded great.

What Richie was worried about was going with Eddie.

Richie loved Eddie. Richie would tell you that. Eddie would tell you that. Anyone who had ever watched Richie and Eddie talk to eachother would tell you that. The problem was that Derry was not by any means an accepting town, and Richie could only imagine what would happen to him, and more importantly, to Eddie, if they went openly together. He briefly visualised everyone gawking at them, and the bullying that would follow them for long after the dance.

He didn’t say any of this to Eddie. And on Friday night, when Richie put on a yellow sweater, gelled back his long curly hair, and biked to Eddie’s house, he almost didn’t care. Because Eddie Kaspbrak was the kind of adorable, sweet, beautiful boy that made Richie not care much about anything else at all. Eddie opened the door at the first knock, looking absolutely lovely in a pastel blue button up shirt and jeans. After quickly checking to make sure that Eddie’s mom wasn’t looking, Richie put his palms on Eddie’s cheeks and quickly but thoroughly kissed him full on the mouth, leaving Eddie giggling in shock against Richie’s lips. “Hi,” Eddie mumbled bashfully, and Richie smirked.

“You’re adorable,” he said, because it was undeniably true. Eddie blushed, pushed Richie lightly, and said, “Let’s go, loser.”

“That’s a funny way of pronouncing ‘awesome and incredibly sexy love of my life’,” Richie responded, getting onto his bike, and Eddie rolled his eyes and hopped on the back of the bike, putting his arms securely around Richie’s waist to hold on.

“If you crash this thing, I’m telling my mom not to let you come to my funeral,” Eddie shouted as they sped towards the school, but Richie could barely hear him over the wind whipping in his ears.

When they arrived, they jumped off Richie’s bike, carefully locked it so that it wouldn’t get stolen, and stood outside of the school. They were early, because Eddie, as middle school secretary, had to set up the dance, and Richie and the rest of the band had to set up their instruments. Richie took a deep breath and squeezed Eddie’s hand outside the front door. “I love you,” he murmured, and Eddie leaned into his side.

“I love you too, asshole.”

Richie chuckled. “I don’t think the ‘asshole’ part was necessarily, but thanks anyway.” Then he was silent again. “You know we can’t—“ he paused, struggling to find the words. “You know we can’t be too obvious.”

“Yeah,” Eddie sighed. “I know.”

“Hey,” Richie said tenderly, putting a calloused hand under Eddie’s chin and lifting it so Eddie was looking at him. “I’m really sorry. I want to. So badly. To be able to kiss you in front of that room of people, let all of them know you’re mine.”

Eddie was quiet for a bit. Then, taking Richie completely by surprise, he put his arms around Richie’s neck and kissed him. “I’m yours,” he whispered, before abruptly letting go of him, turning on his heel, opening the door, and skipping into the school, leaving Richie behind with a dumb smile on his face.

———

They opened with a crowd pleaser. David Bowie was always a good way to kick off any event, in Richie Tozier’s humble opinion, and dances where no exception.

“Didn’t know what time it was the lights were low, I leaned back on my radio,” Richie began in a low, husky voice, feeling the adrenaline build in his system as they grow closer to the chorus. Bill’s fingers gliding flawlessly over the piano keys as Bev harmonised in the background, and Richie jumped in place a bit as he belted out the chorus.

“There’s a starman waiting in the sky,

He’d like to come and meet us

But he think’s he’d blow our minds

There’s a starman waiting in the sky,

He’s told us not to blow it

Cause he knows it’s all worthwhile.

He told me

Let the children lose it

Let the children use it

Let all the children boogie”.

Between songs, Richie found himself looking at the ground and just smiling out at the gymnasium full of kids. They were really good, they had to be, because all of their classmates who generally hate them are cheering and singing along. They got through some Cyndi Lauper (Eddie insisted), and Africa by Toto, Take on Me, and a few more high energy songs that everyone seemed to enjoy.

Finally, they got to the second to last (and frankly, Richie’s favourite) song on the setlist. Richie grabbed the microphone, searching the crowd for Eddie. When he found him, they made brief eye contact, Richie raised his eyebrows and laughed slightly as he said, “So, this song is for a special someone in the audience,” he paused, grinning at the blush on Eddie’s face, “And without further ado,” he turned around to the other losers, “Hit it, Mike!”

Mike began playing the opening part of the song on his violin. Then, Ben came in with a hypnotising drum beat, and Bev’s guitar joined, and then it was Richie’s turn.

“Come on Eileen!” He sang dynamically, before repeating the same verse, “Come on Eileen!” He caught Eddie’s eye again, winked, and threw himself into his performance.

———

“So,” Richie drawled as he and Eddie exited the school, glasses slightly askew and hair a sweaty mess, “Was I good? Am I the hot punk-rocker boyfriend you’ve always wanted?”

“You were great,” Eddie said seriously, and Richie smiled down at him. He noted that they’re alone, he noted that he’s had a hell of a day, and he noted that Eddie was directly in front of him, looking cute as always and extremely kissable. He didn’t question his instincts, just leaned forward and kissed Eddie, intertwining their hands. When they pulled away, he twirled Eddie, waltzing clumsily in the dark.

“Come on Eddie,” Richie sang softly, looking at Eddie in the pale light. “Oh, I swear what he means, in this moment, you mean everything.”

Eddie just rolled his eyes and kissed Richie again.


End file.
